


5 Times Peter Was up past His Bed Time

by Lafayetti



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Underage Drinking, Vomiting, but we love him, ch. 1 written in the wee hours of the morning, more to be added - Freeform, peter is.... an idiot, uhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 02:33:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15547662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafayetti/pseuds/Lafayetti
Summary: And one time he fell asleep early.





	5 Times Peter Was up past His Bed Time

**Author's Note:**

> hello there, welcome to this shitshow! i wrote this coming down from a caffeine high. have fun.

To be fair, Peter hadn’t thought it would really be possible for him to get drunk. With his enhanced senses and healing factor and everything, he’d figured his body would metabolize any alcohol he consumed too quickly for it to have any effect on him. What he hadn’t counted on, however, was his complete inexperience with and lack of knowledge of anything to do with alcohol. Peter wasn’t trying to get drunk, but he wasn’t exactly... careful about the number of drinks he had ingested, and now he was paying the price for it. Anyway, it was an accident. Weezer’s “Africa” by Toto cover provided a distant backtrack to Peter stumbling with a sore ankle to sit down on unfamiliar front porch steps after vomiting his guts out into a bush (sorry to whoever ended up finding that). He groaned and attempted to figure out how things had escalated to this point. 

He and Ned had entered the party, and Peter was immediately slightly overwhelmed- thumping bass, raised voices, flashing lights(someone had brought in one of those shitty disco balls you can buy at, like, 5 Below), the overlapping scents of perfume, sweat, and alcohol- it would’ve been a lot to take in even without the enhanced senses. Peter honestly would have walked right back out the door and gone home, or patrolling, or something, had Ned not been so excited to come (“Peter, we have to go to this party- who knows when our next chance to escape loserdom will be?” Peter knew it was more than that- Ned was an outgoing and social person at heart). So, he decided to suck it up, smiling and waving Ned off when he said he was going to go and seek out some decathlon friends, and proceeded into the kitchen in search of a reprieve from the madness that was the living room. The kitchen held a countertop full of all sorts of alcohol available for irresponsible teenage drinking, and that’s when the idea struck Peter- alcohol was supposed to dull your senses, wasn’t it? So he grabbed the least bad smelling bottle he could find, poured himself a cup, and chugged; one cup had led to another, and another, and another had led to Peter being pulled onto the dance floor to make a fool of himself(read: actually demonstrate some decent moves? Who knew?) by an amused looking MJ, had lead to another drink, had lead to him joining a game of truth or dare, which found him being dared to a backflip by a significantly less inebriated but still tipsy Ned, which lead to Peter, never one to refuse a challenge, attempting a drunken backflip which definitely got captured on several Snapchat stories, at which point Peter’s memory grew foggy until he found himself puking into a bush with a sore ankle.

Well, at least he knew what was with the sore ankle now. Even Spiderman loses some agility when he’s drunk off his ass- Peter winced, thinking about how stupid he’d been to, as Peter Parker, do a backflip for a dare in front of a crowded room. He decided in a brief moment of clarity that he needed to get out of there before he did something irreversibly stupid like climb a wall or something. Peter weighed his options; he couldn’t call Aunt May. Despite his martyr complex, he wasn’t actively suicidal. Ned was a no go, because he was also drunk and still enjoying the party, and if Ned’s mom found out she’d just tell Aunt May anyway. Standing up and letting out an involuntary giggle as the world swerved at a ninety degree angle, Peter ruled out walking home alone and sneaking in- he’d get himself killed. 

The above considered, Peter only had one option.

As the phone rang, Peter zoned out and stared absently at the sky. The stars were slightly visible in the night sky of the suburbs, bringing a brief smile to his face.

“Kid? You better be calling me in your sleep, because 3:46 a.m. is way past your bedtime, and I have sleep to catch up on.” Tony’s words were joking, but if Peter had been even slightly sober he would have picked up on the mild worried tone they held. 

As it was, Peter had actually forgotten who he was in the middle of calling, and his face lit up at the voice in his ear. “Mis’r Star’?!?” The only way to describe the emotion conveyed through his voice would be ‘puppy reunited with its owner after he was gone all day’. “What’re you doin’ calling me righ’ now? ‘S pretty late, y’know.” He was so plastered. 

Tony’s eyebrows furrowed and he let out a deep sigh. “Really, kid? Peter, are you actually drunk right now? Actually, no, I don’t even want to hear the lie you’re coming up with right now. Unbelievable. And here I thought you had an ounce more common sense than the average twelve year old. Sit tight, I’m coming to get you.” With that, he hung up the phone and set about picking up the delinquent superhero the universe had unfairly appointed him to look after. 

Peter looked down at the still lit up phone in his hand and snorted. Mr. Stark was funny when he started monologuing. Suddenly overcome with exhaustion, Peter leaned back against the porch and promptly conked out. 

“Peter, get up. Do not think I’m above pouring water on your drunk ass, kid. Whatever morals you thought I had? Get them out of your head. They don’t apply to idiotic drunken youths.” Peter’s eyes shot open. 

He sat up, saw Tony towering above him, and proceeded to vomit all over his shoes. “Whoopsy,” he said, reclining again. Tony gaped. 

“What the Hell? No, seriously, what the actual Hell? Did you genuinely just vomit on my new sneakers and then say ‘whoopsy’? I’m only asking because I had been under the impression that you were sixteen and not an actual infant. Of course, if I was wrong, just let me know.” Peter grinned absently. 

“Hi, Mis’r Stark. ‘S there a mission? Did you come get me so we can fight some gad buys?” He furrowed his eyebrows, mouthing the words ‘gad buys’ again, then shook his head, seemingly unable to find fault in the phrase. Tony rubbed his forehead in udder defeat. 

“Alright, Pete, time to go home. Up you go.” He pulled Peter to his feet and caught him as he stumbled into the older man. This kid was gonna be the death of him. “Okay, kid, it’s bed time as soon as we get to the tower.” Dragging Peter over to his car, he sloppily buckled up the kid, who was very close to slipping out of consciousness once again. “But don’t think you’re not getting the scolding of a lifetime in the morning when you’re hungover as shit.”

**Author's Note:**

> hey, hope u enjoyed! comments & kudos r appreciated,, lmk if u want to see more of this fic. come talk to me on tumblr @/jeremyaqui


End file.
